Revfew's The Incredible Spider-Man
by Revfew
Summary: Peter Parker is Spider-Man, crime-fighting wall-crawling hero. Watch as he fights both the evils of his city, and those who call for his arrest.
1. Chapter 1

The gutters filled with rain, and the streets with flimsy umbrellas and newspapers as Daniel Berkhart kicked a puddle in tired boredom. Living on the streets away from everything was tough and lonely, especially when you didn't own a box to hide in. He didn't even have a coat.

He slid down onto the pavement, hiding himself under a store umbrella. The owner of the store came outside, angered and upset.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"I need a place to sleep for the night-"

"Noooo way!"

"I need a place to sleep for the night-"

"Nuh uh, get outta here!"

"I NEED A PLACE TO SLEEP FOR THE NIGHT!"

Berkhart removed a knife from his pocket and plunged it into the man's heart. He twisted it round then ran, through the alleys. He heard people scream behind him, and to avoid detection he dived into a condemned building. Inside was illuminated by the outer street lighting, casting unintentional light on a moulding door. He cautiously opened it, finding a small room. From its ceiling hung a solitary lightbulb, which he turned on using the grimy, dusty switch next to him.

Inside were a level-series of shelves. On the middle one was a blank, full-head helmet. It was a foggy white. On the shelf under it was a green suit, with purple cuffs, tie and shirt collar. There were also yellow gloves, and amber loafers. On the high shelf was a case. When he opened it he found six clamp-like objects, which had smooth metal circles. He could feel an extremely thin layer of metal within the suit, too. There was a piece of paper in there too. It read:

_If you have found this, then it means I am dead. I am Quentin Beck, and this is my Mysterio II prototype. I built this originally for magic, but my mind wandered to crime. Included you will find the formula to my hallucinogenic bombs, as well as a sample of them. Also, the magnet clamps. These are to be set up around the city, and will allow for the movement of whoever you are in the air in a twenty mile radius. The magnets are designed to be impervious to interference. You'll fly. _

_Use these well, I know I did not._

Berkhart reached in and removed a handful of small squares. He guessed these were the bombs. He also pulled out a crumpled paper covered in a long formula. He looked around, and found a box full of newspapers. He tossed them out and filled it with the gear, before leaving discreetly and running to the apartment blocks he knew had roof access.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Peter was brooding. The night was coming, and the night brought with it new threats, new villains to fight. He was ready to start this whole crime fighting thing, as Spider-Man, but on his own. No Tony Stark to help him prove himself.

He was in the costume, a snug but comfortable fit. It was also pretty cold in there. He heard someone open the door to the roof, so flung himself down and ran.

Berkhart placed the last clamp on the last building, smiling to himself. He got into the suit, and slipped on the helmet. He could still see perfectly. A fog enveloped his head, through which he could also see perfectly. Carelessly he stepped off the edge, finding himself hovering. He moved his legs in a walking motion, and found himself walking in mid-air. He then ran across to the building adjacent to him, and lowered himself into an alley. He took off the gear and walked away, laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

It was odd, not having school. Peter had been granted time off, for as long as he felt was necessary. He'd protested, but they'd protested back.

So here he was, Spider-Man. The Amazing, Spectacular, Fantastic, Incredible Spider-Man. Waiting for something to happen, waiting for an excuse to do something. And then the excuse came.

Alarm bells pounded with a shrill through the air. He dived off the gargoyle he sat on, and began to web-swing towards the alarm, doing mid-air flips as the adrenaline rush swept through him. People looked up and pointed, taking out cameras and phones. From his office, J Jonah Jameson of the Daily Bugle, watched the red and blue blur with an agape mouth and a story to write. Meanwhile, down below, young Edward Brock raised his camera and began to take rapid shots of this new hero.

Peter landed down and began to run towards the ruckus. He found himself at an absolutely destroyed jewellery store, with flames and everything. A figure walked from the destruction, dressed in a green two-piece suit. Their head was an odd, white fog.

"Good afternoon!" they said, male voiced.

"I think you _mist _a spot!Get it? Cos...mist...missed...ugh."

"Ah, a comedian! Not a good one, mind."

"The name's Spider-Man. I'm guessing yours is Captain Eighties Fashion?"

"I am Mysterio, master of illusion!"

"Sheesh, that's _worse_!"

Mysterio sighed, then unexpectedly ran. Peter tried to pull him back with web, but his timing was off, and so he missed. He noticed the people crowding around him.

"Who are you?!"

"Friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, now gotta go!"

He flung himself after Mysterio as quickly and efficiently as possible. He could see the green blur round the corner, so began to run along the wall, scaling it as soon as he saw Mysterio run up the stairwell. They stood on the rooftop, ready to fight.

"Y'know, I don't like the helmet. You could get a goldfish bowl for practically free. Might keep the mist in."

"You really don't comprehend my power, web-head!"

"No, but I comprehend your total lack of a sense of fashion and humour-"

"We already went through this bit. Now, I'll get going."

He ran to the edge and zoomed off the side, and to Peter's amazement he walked in mid-air. He ran after him but Mysterio threw small square-shaped items at him. Cautiously he backed away, and did a clumsy backflip off the roof as soon as the squares began emitting smoke. He began to keep to the young shadows as he made his way home. Aunt May wasn't in tonight, meaning she wouldn't notice him gone.

He'd messed up. Big time.


	3. Chapter 3

All Berkhart wanted was one thing.

Money. Simple as. What else would he want or need? He didn't need to be king of everything, nor emperor of the cosmos. No, he wanted to be rich. Filthy, stinking rich.

This punk, the Spider-Man, wouldn't stop him either. He felt foolish saying that, like a cringey villain from some 60s cartoon. He knew he wasn't infallible. Like, someone could dismantle the magnets. Then he'd be powerless, save for some hallucinogens which he didn't even know worked, defenseless against anyone.

So he'd be careful, alright. But not too careful. Careful enough to reach his goal before anyone found the magnets.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"Peter, are you home?"

Peter quickly hid the costume under his bed, a split second before aunt May entered his room.

"Have you eaten?"

"Not yet. How was-"

"Yeah, it was...ok, to say the least."

"So not good?"

"No, Peter. Not good."

They laughed.

"It's good to see you smile."

"Does that-"

"No, no school yet for you."

"Ok..."

She nodded, and closed the door. Peter put the suit on, out his clothes on over it, and stuffed the mask in his pocket.

"I'm going out aunt May!"

"At seven o'clock?"

"Uh, walking. Back in an hour."

"Ok, but be safe."

He made sure he would be. He hid in an alley and took off his normal clothes, slipping the mask over his face. He flung upwards, and spotted a glimmer in the near distance. He zipped over and found an odd clamp.

"What the-"

"I expected to find you here. Well, I say expect. I _suppose _it's serendipitous coincidence. If that is a thing. I was more-or-less checking out the clamps and found you at the same time."

He turned and saw Mysterio.

"I _knew _you were using something like magnets! Jeez man, at _least _have _some _credibility!"

"Oh, I do. I also have hallucinogenic bombs, which I'll spread across the cities banks. Setting them off, I'll throw them into disarray, and then plunder their vaults. Live off the fatta' land."

"What does a guy like you need to buy? Besides a sense of style, brains, maybe a boxset or two of Breaking Bad-"

"Quiet! I am sick and tired of the wisecracks!"

"Well, certainly gave me a chance to do this."

He turned gracefully and began to remove the clamp. He threw it to the ground, which damaged it.

"Gonna find its friends now!"

He jumped away, and Mysterio followed him with a rabid growl. He was looking out for more clamps, while making sure that Mysterio was far enough away to be unable to deal any damage. He spotted another and webbed at it, dragging the thread behind with him. It cracked off.

"Two down, Mysuckio!"

"Graaaah!"

He dived on Peter, who almost fell backwards. Thankfully he was only jumping from building to building, not swinging. He shrugged Mysterio off and webbed him up.

"You're grounded!"

He then began to move again. He looked back to see Mysterio struggling. He had at _least _20 minutes.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

There was one left, which Peter gracefully removed. The door to the roof opened, and Mysterio stepped out.

"You little-"

"Nuh uh uh! Honey, we need to talk about your work hours. Are you seeing someone else?"

"Argghhh!"

"I think we need a divorce. The kids won't mind."

He jumped over Mysterio as he rushed at Peter, pulling off the mask the illusionist wore. The man underneath was dishevelled, but morphed into the face of uncle Ben.

"**I'm disappointed in you, Peter. You could have saved me.**"

Peter staggered back, but regained his composure.

"You...are..._not..._my...uncle!"

He dived at Mysterio, gave a brisk three-punch combo and knocked him out. He webbed him up into an odd cocoon, and then slung him over a lamppost. There was a shopkeeper outside.

"Tell the cops that's my Christmas present for them. Bit early, I know."

"...ok. Wh-who are you?"

"Just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man!"

He ran and began to swing back home.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Peter sat next to May, and sighed.

"I think I'm ready."

"Really Peter?"

"I...I feel like...it's my fault."

He burst into tears. May comforted him immediately.

"It's not your fault, and _don't you dare _tell yourself it is! He wouldn't want you to be like this."

"I...I know."

"You can go back to school after Easter, ok?"

"Ok."

They sat together, while the darkness fell outside. The darkness, however was now safe, thanks to the amazing Spider-Man.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Peter enjoyed taking pictures sometimes. He wouldn't mind being a photographer, but would prefer to follow uncle Ben's footsteps as a journalist.

So, when aunt May informed him that the Daily Bugle was looking for pictures of Spider-Man, he couldn't help but rub his hands together in glee.


	4. Chapter 4

The docks at midnight were oddly non-reflective. The captain noticed this odd, useless factoid as the shipment came gliding in over the filthy waters. 100 KG of solid cocaine; it didn't get more outlandish than this. He could see the mysterious benefactor waiting on the mainland, looking as ridiculous as they all said.

"Welcome, Ruskov! I was beginning to think you wouldn't show!" he said, as the captain stepped on to the stained concrete. This figure was definitely not conventionally dressed- wearing a clear, plastic oxygen mask and a white suit. His eyes were red, and not in the the bloodshot sense- his eyes were red circles, the black pupils barely indistinguishable from the hellish gaze. Ruskov knew this man had the name of "Cardiac", which wasn't really fitting.

"Well, that much powder requires stealth."

"It also requires efficiency. Show me."

"Грегори! Винсент! Наркотиков! Этот идиот не терпится."

"You're lucky I don't speak Russian, if I didn't know better I'd think you were insulting me. But you wouldn't, would you Ruskov?"

"No, not at all sir."

The men brought the cocaine out, and dumped it in the awaiting truck disguised as a UPS truck. Ruskov had the overbearing feeling of unavoidable pain.

"Do I scare you, Ruskov?"

"N-no, Car...sir."

"What did you say?"

"N-noth-"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

"Sir."

"You said Cardiac, didn't you?"

He nodded feebly.

"Good, I like it. You know why they call me that?"

"No."

"This is why."

He flicked Ruskov's chest, causing the captain to clutch at his breast.

"Little trick. Cardiac arrest, taught to me by some old guys long ago."

Ruskov coughed out one final breath, and fell forward without life.

"Sort it out. Oh, and burn the drugs. We won't need them."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Peter webbed his camera to the wall, and began to pose in action position and web-swinging mode. The camera went off every minute, for ten minutes.

After two days, he brought the fully developed photographs into the Bugle, and now found himself sitting in front of J Jonah Jameson, editor-in-chief.

"Crap, terrible, dogs dinner," he said, flipping through the pictures, "crap. I'll give you 75 bucks."

"Deal."

"Good. Now get the hell out of my office."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Officer John H. Kleider, of the NYPD, had never not been crooked.

"So, uh, big guy. What's the plan?"

Cardiac looked at him awkwardly.

"We plant the seeds of revenge. You know why I wear the mask?"

"No."

"I was injured. Car bomb, shrapnel cut my windpipe up. Doctor called Miles Warren tried to fix me, left me with the need for an oxygen mask. Well, Warren made my life hell."

"So ya came here to get revenge?"

"Yes, in a way. My friend Ruskov, he's the one man I know with a bland face. The plastic surgeons shouldn't take that long."

"Then what?"

"Then we send a message."


	5. Chapter 5

Peter spun in mid-air, dodging three perfectly misplaced bullets. Just his luck- hungry for lunch, a promise made to his aunt to be home earlier, all broken by the simplest of bank heists lead by an idiot who'd been referred to as either Morrie or Bench.

"Jeez, no one called the Three Stooges!"

"Who?"

"Guys, really?! You're like, fifty years older than me and you've never heard of the Three Stooges? Larry, Curly and Moe? Sometimes Shemp? Right, gotta beat you harder now!"

"I'm 27, punk!"

"So you smoke, what, 8000 packs a day? Dude, your face is as, no, _way more _saggy than your grandma's heiny!"

Bench was now at breaking point.

"No one OFFENDS my gramma!" he yelled, firing terrible shots aimlessly at the wall. Peter arced gracefully over his head and webbed his shoulders, causing Bench to go head-over-heels. The big guy groaned, and his cronies spread out and away, but Peter just pulled them back quickly. He webbed them together, grabbed his camera and swung away home.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Officer John H. Kleider was conducting an unnecessary check on Bench and his buddies, overseeing their travel from holding cell to the ferry to Riker's Island.

"So, what you guys get put in for?"

Bench was silent.

"Come on big fella, I'm on your side! In fact, I'm here to break you out!"

The truck they were in stopped. The doors opened and two armed men gestured them out.

"I know what you're thinking. You're saying, 'what the hell is happening?'. Well, you've got both salvation and employment now. Kids, you're gonna meet the most beautiful madman I've ever seen."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

As Peter walked towards the Daily Bugle, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen bumped right into him. She had bright blonde hair and dazzling eyes, and seemed to be embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry!" she blurted awkwardly, picking up Peter's envelope for him.

"No, no, it's ok! Seriously, it's fine."

"You sure? Because you seem kinda...flustered?"

"No, I'm ok. Thanks, though, uh?"

"Gwen. Gwen Stacy. And I think you're...Peter Parker?"

"How did you- the envelope."

"The envelope."

They laughed.

"Wait, don't you go to Midtown High?"

"Yeah. Taking a sabbatical though."

"Isn't that...oh, sorry."

"No, it's ok. Gotta move on sometimes."

"Gosh, you sound like my dad. Well, Peter, I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

After another blown up meeting with Jameson and another 75 bucks, Peter felt relaxed.

Then the sirens wailed.

"Seriously..." he whined, before getting changed. He swung towards the high-pitched tone, finding an overturned police van. A stubby cop lay on the ground, moaning.

"What happened?"

"N..."

"Yeah?"

"Nothing..."

Then about a dozen armed men entered from now-apparent shadows. At their head was a man wearing a white suit and some kind of oxygen mask.

"Thank you for showing up. It's a trap, but thank you all the same." he said, as Peter realised just how bad things could be.


	6. Chapter 6

"So, uh, what's the deal with the get-up? Scuba-diving Vito Corleone?"

"Well, feisty. How...intriguing in a Bug Man."

"That's _Mr. _Bug Man to you!"

The assailant gestured for two of his men to restrain Peter.

"The name's Cardiac. I did once have a normal name. But then again, I'm no longer normal."

He raised his index finger. Peter struggled to get free, thankfully realising his fingers were free to move.

"There's a reason they call me Cardiac."

"Because you're fat?"

"Because I control the heart. One flick, and you're dead."

Peter chose this moment to shoot web at two high-up places behind Cardiac. He got out of the finger's way, and began to drag all of the armed men upwards. Soon, after some trouble, only Cardiac remained on the ground. Peter noticed that the cops hadn't gotten there yet, and that the one cop on the ground had vanished.

"Tell me all your plans!" he yelled, hoping it would work.

It kinda did.

"Years ago, I became scarred. My doctor did a bad job un-scarring me. Miles Warren was his name."

"Wait...Miles Warren? As in, _the _Miles Warren? Dude, sorry, but Warren's outta town! He went to...Wakanda, I think."

"Gah!"

"So, you're not a native."

Cardiac shot into the trees, but Peter wasn't there.

"Peekaboo!" he whispered, before webbing across Cardiac's eyes from behind. He threw the main into the air, and in show-off style, began to throw webs while his enemy fell. Cardiac shot back, stuck on the side of a building.

"What was the plan, by the way?"

"Was...gonna use duplicate...Warren's assistant...fake death, frame Warren..."

"Oh, struggle all you like dear. That's not gonna break. As for your frankly terrible scheme, I'm sure the cops will enjoy hearing it."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

The Daily Bugle of _course _had to spin a story of Spider-Man being in cahoots with Cardiac before "turning on him". He still didn't didn't know who that cop was, either.

Peter didn't care, anyway. He was bored, but ready for the next foe.

There was a knock on the door. Opening the red wood, he found himself staring at a boy his age, with short brown hair.

"Harry? What's-"

"Peter, you take Spider-Man's pictures right?"

"Yeah..."

"I need his help. Well, my dad needs it more."

"Why?"

"Dad was getting loads of threatening letters. We got over them. Then someone...something broke in. Got it on camera too."

He handed Peter a folded up piece paper.

"Open it."

So he did.

"So, you want Spider-Man to take on this, whatever it is?"

Harry nodded.

"I'll tell him then."

Harry left. Peter sighed, looking at the paper again. It was quite obvious who that person was, breaking in.

Blackie Drago evidently didn't get freaked out of crime by Tony.


	7. Chapter 7

After a sequence of effects that involved breaking into OsCorp and beginning a fight with Blackie Drago, Peter was beginning to regret following up on Harry's request.

"So, Budgie, why you hanging around?!"

"The big guy's paying and I'm buying!"

"Wait, so someone paid you to linger? How desperate are you?!"

"Shuddup and taste the Vulture!"

Peter flipped as Drago took a swipe at him.

"I'm a Vegetarian, jerk!" he yelled, spitting web at both of the wings of Drago and pulling them back. The man sagged back, stumbling backwards towards Peter. He punched Drago across the jaw, and left him struggling to escape a tight web cocoon.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

_**A Month Later **_

He left Tony's house (**see "Revfew's Iron Man: The God of Thunder" -ed.) **and caught a bus. Things weren't looking up for anyone at all, really.

He sat back and sighed. Hell was coming, and he was terrified.

**To be continued in "Preludes to Chaos"**


	8. 8: Enter the Hunter

Spider-Man ran from the giant wheel, his web-fluid out.

"I'll get you, Spider-Man!" The Big Wheel yelled, shaking his fist out of the side of the wheel.

"Darn, the Big Wheel is gonna crush me. What can I do? Think Spidey, think!"

He noticed two lamp posts, and webbed a line across them. The Wheel tugged, and toppled over.

"I'LL GET YOU, SPIDER-MAN!"

"Looks like you'll be _free-wheeling _to justice, Big Wheel."

Peter switched the TV off.

"Jeez, they really know how to butcher me. I mean, first they get that popstar idiot voicing me, _then_ they waste as great an actor as John Rhys-Davies on a character who drives a big wheel?! And who is this Felicia Hardy anyway? Who the hell is she?! I don't even _know _a Hardy, let alone a _Felicia!_ Who produced this anyway?! Klasky Csupo?! Who the hell let them do this?! Did no one learn _anything _from their horrible Simpsons episode?! I _guess _The Rugrats was ok, but still!"

He realised no one else was there, and felt awkward.

"What network is this anyway? The 'Mojo' network? Well, Mojo is getting a _very_ strongly worded letter..."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Senator Philip Kench was in the middle of the room, swirling his bourbon while smiling and talking to the supporters around him. He was planning on running for president during the next available time, promising more protection against possible otherworldly invasion.

"So, senator, you have any plans for this evening?" a young man was currently chatting quickly to him.

"Sallis, listen. I haven't got the ability to fund any Super Soldier recreation. Maybe one day, son."

He patted the young biochemist on the shoulder and walked on.

High above, across the street, a man primed a sniping rifle with glee. He lined up the crosshairs delicately with Kench's head, and with one pull of the trigger destroyed the man's head. He picked up the walkie-talkie next to him and smiled.

"Squadron One, this is the Hunter. Target has been decimated."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

The cops were swarming around the place. Captain Stacy drank from his coffee, burning his tongue just the slightest bit. The officer next to him was anxious.

"Ya think he'll show up, George? My kid's _crazy _about him!"

"He'll show, Kieran. Guy's a wonder."

Sure enough, Peter dropped down next to the cops.

"Y'know, at some point in the past you guys would'a shot me by now."

"Shoot the guy who got rid of them aliens? No way! Listen, Spidey, my son Brian loves the head off ya, and it'd mean the world to me if he saw his pop with his hero."

"I think getting a photo of you standing with yourself is kinda dumb, but I'll play the part of you if you want."

Kieran smiled, and got Captain Stacy to take a quick picture.

"3rd floor, don't make a mess." Stacy whispered, before Peter ran up the wall and into the room.

"I've seen Sherlock _and _Elementary- who am I talking to? Jeez Pet- I mean Spidey, pull yourself together."

Correcting his name in case anyone was nearby, he examined the area in which Kench was killed, as well as the window the bullet had come through.

"Bullet definitely smashed through that. But from where?...I should buy a trenchcoat and a hat."

He looked outside and across the way from the window. There were only two buildings that the shot could've been fired from, so he slipped back outside and swung over to them. The first one was as barren as the Sahara, but the second was more giving. There were little hairs, as well as a pair of sharp teeth.

"Werewolf? Yeah right. I'll get Captain Stacy to check it out...I think I need a sidekick or something. Talking to myself is getting weird."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"You got here in good time, Spider-Man. Just got the results back."

Peter was in the corner of the room, his head just under the ceiling. Captain Stacy threw a file on the table-top next to him.

"It's lion hair. Teeth are lion too."

"Hakuna Matata." Peter replied, dropping down to the floor.

"Thankfully, it's alerted us to the culprit," Stacy stated confidently, opening up the file, "international terror suspect. Name's Sergei Kravinoff. Calls himself 'Kraven the Hunter'. Top notch assassin, believed to come from the same nut-hutch as guys like Terry Canzera and Ollie Kranghouse. Russian parents, born out of wedlock, brought to the US in '77 when he was a kid. Mother died when his father strangled her to death with the plastic bag that had originally contained a loaf of bread, shot himself afterwards. Guy's trouble, wanted on numerous FBI and CIA hit lists. Wears animal pelts, leaves two teeth behind after each kill. If he's here, means big trouble, 'specially if someone's paid him to kill someone like Kench."

"So, I've gotta stop an international terrorist?!"

"We'll help you in any way. Or the Avengers could-"

"The Avengers only come together against big, world domination things. This'll be a walk in the park."


End file.
